


Like Jericho, I Fall

by Ghostwriter87



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostwriter87/pseuds/Ghostwriter87
Summary: Georgia Love #1. Kelly visits a lost loved one. K plus for some language.





	Like Jericho, I Fall

 

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a fic I originally posted on Fanfic and is the first in my Georgia Love reality. Takes place in the first season and makes Kelly's romantic past AU.  Belongs to Dick Wolf and NBC.

 

After his shift was over, Kelly headed for the florist where he got a bouquet of roses and then headed for the cemetery.  He hadn’t gone there in a while and was due for a visit.  He hated going though.  It still hurt too much.  She had been everything to him and even though some people were saying that he should move on, he hadn’t found anyone that could compare to her.  Not even Renee Whaley had come close even though he had loved her.  But he couldn’t think about that.  No.  Today was all about her.  When he got to the cemetery, he sat in his Camaro for a bit, trying to get control of his emotions.  But he knew that it wouldn’t work.  He couldn’t ever keep it together when he visited her.  With a sigh, he got out and walked up the path to the gravestone and then stopped and knelt in front of it.  _Hate this.  Hate having to come here to see her_ , he thought.

“Hey, Babe.  I know it’s been a while.  Sorry about that,” he greeted as he pushed the thought away.  “It’s just been crazy.  We got a new candidate on Truck.  Peter Mills.  Kid’s pretty good.  He reminds me of Andy when he and I started out: so eager to prove himself,” he said.  He then took a deep breath as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say next.  “Matt and I still aren’t getting along.  I blame him.  I know I shouldn’t, but I do.  Andy was my best friend.  I’m losing everyone I love.  Don’t know what to do.  Maybe I’d be better off not getting close to anybody.”  He fell silent as he contemplated this.  Was he cursed?  Was it him who ruined people’s lives?  He shook his head and chuckled ruefully.  “I know what you’d say to that: “Kelly Michael Severide, stop being an ass.” He let out a shaky breath.  “Damn it baby, I miss you.  I can’t do this without you.  How am I supposed to survive?  You were everything to me.  It hurts too much.  How could you leave me?”  And that was what hurt the most: that she had left him.  Granted, he knew that he couldn’t have stopped what had happened, but at times, he wondered if there had been something more that he could’ve done.  “I’m sorry, Baby.  I know you didn’t want to.  You just got tired.  You had fought so hard, but you were just tired.  The damn cancer took your strength.”  Oh not at first.  At first, she had fought it with everything she had, enduring the chemo and charging through everything with gusto.  But then, it had taken its toll on her.  “I just wish…I just wish you were here, Babe.  I could really use you right now.”  Then, unable to help himself, he began to cry and through his blurry vision, he traced the familiar words: CHELSEA AMANDA SEVERIDE MAY 8, 1981-JULY 1, 2012 BELOVED WIFE.

 

              THE END


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